Breaking Away
by dti
Summary: Oneshot. He didn't return for school the following day and none of the administration expected him to – a nine-year-old shouldn't return to school the day after receiving news like the kind Naruto did. Short story on the events leading up to Naruto's first trip to foster care. Friendship fic, but you can pretend it's shonen-ai if you want to. Child abuse, mentions of drug abuse


He didn't return for school the following day and none of the administration expected him to – a nine-year-old shouldn't return to school the day after receiving news like the kind Naruto did. Oneshot on the events leading up to Naruto's first trip to foster care. Friendship fic, but you can pretend it's shonen-ai if you need to ;)

**Breaking Away**

He wasn't sure which woke him up, but there was that crack as the bullet broke the sound barrier, that shattering as it broke his living room window, and that crash as it plowed through the kitchen wall before landing in the corner of their small, downstairs apartment floor.

He was frightened, too much to move – not because he assumed someone was coming after them, but because one gunshot usually instigated another; and the backfire was just as capable of missing its target as the first had.

A car alarm wailed outside his bedroom window and a dog from the neighboring apartment complex howled and barked; but he didn't move – he wasn't sure _what_ to do – not until his bedroom door was slammed open.

"Naruto!"

His father grabbed him and pulled him out of his bedroom, his mother standing near the doorway, fear etched across her face in subtlety as she communicated with an emergency service through the phone at her ear; he could tell she was trying to remain calm as they moved toward the kitchen and ducked behind the island where the stove stood.

Naruto's young eyes shifted toward the left corner of the floor where a small, silver piece of metal lie still against the tile, resting within the grout, before glancing up toward his father.

It wasn't exactly safe here either – that bullet said it clear as day; but it was less dangerous behind another layer of sheetrock than any of the other rooms where the only thing separating them from the street was a single wall, and this was really the only place they could go.

"It's ok, Naruto, we'll be ok," his father promised with a calm smile; Naruto _felt_ ok, wedged between his father and his mother – he wasn't afraid – he was afraid of few things. He was mostly just startled.

"I'm not really scared," the child whispered back, earning a quick smile from the blonde man he took after so fiercely in looks, and it wasn't moments before a hand was on his blonde locks, rubbing the top of his head in affection.

"You're so much like your mom," Minato complimented as he smiled down at the child next to him.

"She looks more afraid than you do."

Minato tried to hide the laugh rising in his chest but he couldn't hold back the smile as his eyes darted to the red haired woman on the phone.

"Mothers sometimes get overly anxious about their children," the man explained, eyes watching as her eyebrows furrowed while she listened to the dispatcher on the other line.

"When you say someone will get here as soon as they can, do you really mean 'no one's coming because you're poor as _shit_'? The last time we called, no one _ever_ showed up!"

Naruto glanced toward his father with a hint of amusement in his raised eyebrows and the small smirk spreading across his lips.

"Don't repeat shit," the older whispered, earning a not-so-promising nod from the younger blonde.

"I have a nine-year-old kid and if someone isn't here within the hour, I'll just go take care of it _myself!_" she screamed through the receiver, earning two sets of apprehensive blue eyes. They both felt a little uneasy; Naruto knew his mother could yell – she was a little crazy. But he loved her that way. And she never threatened anything she didn't intend to follow through on.

He knew what his father said was true – she was seriously bold: bold, vigilant, and afraid of very few things.

And so was he – so much like his mother.

It took longer than it should have, but police did eventually arrive and they weren't there long before picking up the bullet remaining behind and leaving with little information and even less reassurance that anything would even be done about it.

But they lived in a low-income neighborhood; so they weren't really expecting much more than that.

They all slept on the floor that night, behind the mattress in his parents' bedroom, mostly because as unwavering and fearless as his mother was, she was also fiercely protective and wasn't sending her child back to bed alone when gang activity was so prevalent it was entering their living room window.

He heard gunshots – a lot; and very rarely did it bother him because it was really just background noise to him. It had always been there and it always would be.

But a stray bullet had never entered his home and it was surprisingly less frightening than he'd anticipated – mostly because nothing happened at all in the aftermath and he knew no one was _after_ them. It was an accident; it wasn't meant for them.

He couldn't stop the world outside. He knew that. And he also knew it was a waste of his own time worrying about a future no one could predict.

All he knew was that as long as he had his family, nothing could ever destroy that perfect orb of bliss and happiness encasing his young life.

oOo

Minato shouldn't have been surprised – well he wasn't at all actually; so he answered the phone call with every ounce of apology and patience he could provide in his tone which was a surprising amount in comparison to his wife and his son: both of whom had a difficult time even _slightly_ admitting they were wrong about anything.

And when he reached the principal's office, he tried, really hard, not to let one ounce of amusement touch his features as he sat next to his carbon-copy of a son and listened to the lecture handed toward them.

"You know, this school has very little tolerance for this type of behavior," the man repeated for what felt like sixth or seventh time.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat what it was that landed him here this time?" Minato requested as the principal leaned forward, eyes narrowed a little unsurely. Hadn't he said it a few times already? He'd been discreet about it, but the general message was out there for anyone paying close enough attention and it forced him to wonder just how seriously the blonde man was taking him.

"I said shit to my teacher dad!"

"The point of this meeting is to assure you _don't_ repeat the word!" the man behind the desk emphasized with hands slamming down upon the surface of the wood, "Honestly are neither of you taking this seriously?"

"I'm very serious," Minato assured quickly, although the statement was somewhat displaced, because the discussion had nothing to do with his demeanor and everything to do with his opinion on Naruto's behavior.

"I just want to know that there will be some sort of follow through at home. Discipline is completely ineffective if it just ends here," the principal reminded in a callous tone.

"I understand; we'll talk to him."

"We?" Naruto repeated, the tone in his voice almost ringing with injustice.

"Yeah, we'll talk to your mother about it."

The child's features shifted toward uneasy and forlorn as his gaze hit the ceiling while his shoulders went slack with agitation and his demeanor alone seemed to be the desired effect the man behind the desk had been looking for.

"Good. I'm glad to see we're on the same page."

And it was as good as a dismissal so Minato stood and headed for the door with Naruto following closely behind.

"Hey," Minato began in a whisper while the front door to the office shut behind them as the child followed behind with features sagging in defeat and feet dragging in apprehension of the scolding that would surely await, "I won't tell if you don't," he continued as they exited the school grounds, heading toward the main street leading toward their run-down neighborhood.

His young features lit up with excitement and he skipped a little as he threw a victorious sort of fist toward the sky.

"_Woo!_"

He was _always_ in trouble, but his dad usually let the little things slip; his dad usually gave him a break – and he couldn't help but cheer from the overwhelming sense of triumph it sent through his young veins.

oOo

"You're such an idiot."

Blue eyes shifted over to gaze at the dark ones staring at him and Naruto gave Sasuke his best shot at acting offended.

"_Come on_, it really wasn't even a big deal."

"Well considering we're in fourth grade, it's a pretty big deal," the brunette countered monotonously from where he sat at the top of the slide, facing Naruto who sat there with him, discussing how he spent the past twenty-four hours having his eardrums tested by his mother who nearly screamed herself hoarse. It definitely wasn't the first time he was in trouble, but it was the first time he'd been suspended, and his mother wasn't having any of it.

Yeah, it was probably overreacting after the fourth or fifth hit, but the first three, that other kid definitely deserved.

They told him his violent behavior was the result of where he was raised and somehow it made Naruto's blood boil with an even deeper fury; what did their financial status have to do with any of it? It just pissed him off! So because there was violence around him – an inevitable part of his environment that he _couldn't_ escape – his anger was less socially acceptable? That was the general message Naruto took from the reprimanding and the small bits of conversation he wasn't really supposed to overhear.

"I still can't believe you beat up a fifth grader."

"Well he said some unkind things," the blonde mumbled, eyes shifting down to the hands in his lap.

"You're an idiot for letting them get to you."

"Damn it Sasuke!"

Frustrated blue eyes shifted from the brunette to the open slide behind him plummeting to the bark enclosure beneath it and Sasuke predicted what was on his mind the very second it landed there.

"Don't even–!"

But he wasn't given a chance to finish before Naruto shoved him backward and he slid down, head first before landing on his back with a small thud on the bark beneath him, and it was only seconds before Naruto landed atop him and they were wrestling, more out of good-natured competition than frustration.

"_Uzumaki Naruto!_" a voice screeched as the adult supervising the playground approached the pair quickly, an incredulous fury present within her posture. The boys froze and Naruto felt his stomach drop with dread; he was sort of on a tight leash – everything he did was always a bigger deal than it needed to be.

"_Crap_."

"I started it," Sasuke admitted while the woman grabbed the blonde by the arm, near his elbow to lead him out of the playground area, "And we were just playing. Sorry for being too rough," he continued to explain before the situation could fly off the handle and out of proportion like it always did whenever Naruto was involved.

"I saw him push you!" she argued before yanking him toward the edge of the playground in the direction of the front office.

"I'm telling you, we were playing. I told him to do it. I know I'm supposed to go feet first on the slides so really, _I_ broke the rules," the brunette continued as he grabbed Naruto's free arm by the wrist and leveraged him in the opposite direction.

The woman paused for a moment and her features lost a good amount of anger; Uchiha Sasuke was a _good_ kid with good grades and good behavior – and he was at least being honest about breaking the rules, and that was a behavior that should be rewarded, right?

"Ok," she sighed as she released her hold on the blonde beside her, "Thank you for being honest, Sasuke. But Naruto, you can't push people. You need to sit out until the end of recess."

Naruto let out an aggravated breath of injustice, eyes taking a trip toward the sky as he sat down heavily on the wooden framework of the playground before him, elbows resting on his knees and chin resting in his hands, but he didn't bother arguing. He didn't want to get expelled; he wouldn't get to see Sasuke anymore and Sasuke was just about the only person aside from his parents who gave him the time of day.

He sort of had a reputation following him around – one he had very little control over; his parents weren't married, and his family was deeply impoverished. And somehow, that made him _bad news_. Maybe because his family was a little different, he didn't know, he didn't care – he just knew it was fucked up.

He was a _bad kid_ – so he _acted_ bad.

"_Uzumaki Naruto to the front office please_."

Naruto sat up straight as he gazed toward the closest speakerphone, features twisted in uncertainty and exasperation; how the hell did they know he was in trouble?

Somehow, it didn't feel like the summoning was connected to the incident that had just transpired – it _couldn't_ be – something within the voice over the intercom told him something wasn't right; and he felt a wave of unease hit him when his eyes shifted toward Sasuke's to find a similar expression dawning across his features too.

Maybe he didn't want to go. Maybe he didn't want to find out whatever awaited him at the front office. Actually he was pretty sure he didn't.

But he wasn't really given much of a choice because he was nine and the teacher who set him on timeout instructed that he'd better do as the intercom asked if he didn't want to get in any _more_ trouble than he had already been in.

oOo

If he _thought_ something was wrong before entering the office, it was nothing next to how firmly he _knew_ something was wrong the second he saw his mother, standing near the school receptionist, a tissue in her hand and eyes swollen and red from the tears pouring relentlessly down her cheeks.

She wiped at her eyes when she saw him approaching, but Naruto knew it was a meaningless gesture when another stream of tears swiftly replaced the ones she brushed away.

"Mom?" he breathed uneasily, eyebrows furrowed and gaze uneasily inquisitive.

"Come on, baby, we have to talk," she explained in a voice shallow and slightly hoarse from the way the words on her tongue constricted her throat.

"I don't want to," the child realized nervously as he followed the woman toward the glass door to the street outside the school. The secretary watched with sorrowful eyes but said nothing, "Maybe I don't want to know."

"Sometimes it's not so easy," the red haired woman apologized as she wrapped a hand around his and lead him toward the street and away from the school behind them.

He didn't return for school the following day and none of the administration expected him to – a nine-year-old shouldn't return to school the day after receiving news like the kind Naruto did.

oOo

It wasn't often that announcements came across the intercom, especially during the school day, but today there had been one – a long one, with a lot to say about something Sasuke was having a hard time accepting and a harder time paying attention to. All he heard was the part about Naruto's dad passing yesterday afternoon repeating through his cognition like he was going insane and the rest was just foreign on his stunned perception.

All his classmates looked shocked, but few of them were close to Naruto like Sasuke was – and he worried so fiercely for his best friend.

He didn't know the first thing about responding to a situation like the one Naruto was in. He barely understood the concept of death and this was his first exposure to it at such an intimate range. He didn't know anyone who'd died before – he didn't know anyone going through what Naruto was right now.

And Monday, when Naruto returned to school, Sasuke still didn't know what to say or what to do, so he sat there in the desk directly before Naruto's, turned in his seat and staring at the boy who sat with his arms crossed over the surface of his desk and his chin resting on his forearms, eyes downcast and features more void of emotion than Sasuke had ever seen them.

It was unusual – well it was typical, actually, if he thought about it; Naruto shouldn't be _happy_, right?

"Stop staring at me, asshole."

"Sorry," Sasuke breathed as he turned so he was facing the wall to his left instead but pausing before he could turn completely away, "Naruto–"

"Just don't even talk to me right now."

The tone in his voice contradicted his choice in words and Sasuke felt his guilt and sorrow soar to an all-time high. And he understood Naruto didn't want Sasuke to fuck off, really, he just didn't want to lose it before school even started.

Everyone left him alone and he made it a good way into the morning until about fifteen minutes before the first recess when his head finally went down on his desk in his arms and it wasn't long before he was pulled from class because the teacher didn't exactly expect him to pull it together and no one was judging him about it.

Everyone just felt _bad_.

oOo

Several weeks passed and Naruto seemed to be doing _alright_; although he was nothing like how Sasuke remembered him and it was difficult for him _not_ to feel frustrated.

But he'd never take it out on Naruto – not now; not when he was at the lowest point in his young nine years of life.

His parents on the other hand, got the full backlash of his bottled up exasperation and thank god his mother was as patient as she was empathetic.

"Sasuke, things will return to normal, but you have to understand – it takes a long time for hearts to heal."

Dark eyes shifted up to acknowledge his mother but he sighed and dropped his gaze back to his nearly untouched dinner plate.

"He only seems to get worse," the child mumbled in a discouraged tone. It was true. Naruto acted out far more than he ever did – and about the smallest things; like he was just looking for a reason for someone to pay attention to him, even if it was negative energy directed his way.

"He's going through a major adjustment. If you want to call yourself a good friend, you have to have patience with him. Imagine if your father or I disappeared suddenly from _your_ life," Mikoto continued to explain while Sasuke sat up a little straighter, eyebrows rising a fraction of an inch at the thought of the circumstance presented to him, "It's something not even Naruto can just bounce back from. He'll come around eventually and when he does he'll definitely appreciate a friend that didn't abandon him, no matter how much it seems like he might want you to."

That was true; Sasuke knew that, probably subconsciously, but it was a lot easier to acknowledge with the ideology placed right in front of him, so he didn't argue and he tried not to feel so pathetic about it, because if anyone deserved to feel distressed, it was Naruto, and he would absolutely never abandon him.

oOo

"Mom?"

A small hand reached forward to shake a red haired woman's thin shoulder, but pulled back in some sort of displaced fear; or maybe it wasn't displaced – maybe it was completely valid. Maybe the word he was looking for was foreign: new – unfamiliar.

Blue eyes shifted toward the bedside table to land on an empty needle resting there and he felt the pit of his stomach churn with unease.

"Mom are you sick?"

"Get the hell out of here."

Naruto jumped slightly and turned toward the doorway to face the man addressing him. He wasn't sure what to call him – his mother's friend? Her employer? Why was he here all the time suddenly? Why was his mom gone all the time suddenly? And when she was here, why was she so out of it? Why couldn't he just get her to wake up?

"But I wanted to–"

"It doesn't matter what you want. Go to your room – or anywhere other than here – no one gives a fuck; just get out of the way."

Naruto's chin tucked a little and he stared out fiercely from beneath blonde bangs; he didn't _like_ that man.

"That's a pretty dangerous look to give a person like me," the man continued to warn in a precarious tone; there wasn't a hint of fear etched within Naruto's young features.

"I'm not scared of you."

"Well you should be. And I'll give you a reason to fear me if that's what you're really looking for," he advised in a deadpan tone – it was something he was probably very good at.

Naruto looked ready to respond – probably to tell him to bring it on, but a voice cut through the stale air before he got a chance and he turned to meet his mother's gaze eagerly.

"Naruto, go to your room, ok?"

He wasn't sure whether he felt more disappointed or stung; he absolutely wasn't used to neglect – but it'd been almost two months since his father died and his mother left halfway there with him.

He just wanted to talk about the report card sitting in the backpack on his back.

"_Fine!_"

The young blonde shot the man at the doorway a furious and hateful glare as he passed on his way to his room and he got about halfway down the hallway before he was grabbed and shoved against the wall almost hard enough to knock the air from his lungs and he was staring straight into deeply malicious eyes that threatened him for just existing.

"Listen up you little shit, keep bothering me, and I'll beat the crap out of your mother – how's that sound?"

Ok, he was profoundly afraid now. Naruto wouldn't deny that the threat struck a violent chord through his anxiety.

"I'll just tell on you–"

"If you even think of telling anyone _anything_, I'll kill you both before you can even find someone who gives two shits. Do you understand? I know everything you're doing and I'm always watching – you can't get away with anything you're planning and if you even try, I'll kill your mom anyway."

Naruto didn't respond and if the way his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze shifted in a deep, pensive unease wasn't enough of a reply, he wasn't sure what was.

"No one cares about you anymore. Just go away and stop bothering everyone."

Naruto didn't look up because he wanted to argue. He didn't care what this asshole said; there were people who still cared about him – people who still believed in him – and one stupid opinion saying otherwise wouldn't change his own.

But a greater part of him – a more profound and somewhat intuitive part of him – was telling him not to: was telling him to just shut up because the man before him was absolutely dangerous and wouldn't hesitate to tear Naruto's young life apart the second he was instigated to do so.

But as if that man wasn't already working on it anyway, and it was sort of inevitable that Naruto would rise to defend himself because he was sort of fearless and a little bit stupid.

"_Fuck off you son of a b–!_"

But the rest of what he had to say was cut off because he was nine, weighed in at no more than sixty-eight pounds, and had little time to even think of retaliating before he was hit by an adult for the first time in his life.

oOo

The next morning at school had been embarrassing; that was the best way Naruto could describe it – his mother's friend left a good sized bruise on his left cheekbone and, although he'd been lucky enough to avoid a black-eye, it was still excessively noticeable, and a lot of people didn't hesitate to voice their opinions that he probably deserved it.

"That'll teach you about picking fights, Naruto," a classmate taunted as they passed each other on the schoolyard during morning recess.

"Are you feeling lucky? Because I'm ready for round two if you really want to go!"

But Sasuke grabbed the blonde and redirected him before either of them could instigate a fight – Sasuke redirected a lot of his frustration; if it wasn't for Sasuke, he probably would have been expelled a long time ago.

"I beat his ass last time! What's he trying to start?" the blonde nearly yelled as Sasuke pulled him out of eyesight and earshot.

"He's just an idiot," Sasuke reassured gently, "You shouldn't let every little thing get to you."

"That's easy for you to say! Everyone doesn't just hate you! No one's parents tell their kids to stay away from you!" Naruto yelled, the built up frustration pouring out of his mouth and leaking through his posture with the way his fingers curled into angry fists and his muscles tensed with disquiet, "Just leave me alone! I wish everyone would just leave me alone!"

And for a few days, Sasuke did – not because he was particularly keen on following instructions, especially ones given to him by Naruto, but because he just wasn't sure how to address the profound impression Naruto's outburst left on him. Things were happening; things were changing about Naruto – life wasn't as easy and carefree as it used to be.

And Sasuke knew it when a few weeks later, it _was_ a black eye and it came with a bruise on his wrist; he knew the world was tilting by the subtle concern his teachers began to show too when the black-eye and the bruise on his wrist turned into a deep cut across the back of his head and a blue and purple handprint around his upper arm and it wasn't long before there wasn't even a gap between the times he would arrive to school with a new injury and all the frustration at being asked where it was from to accompany it.

"You know," Sasuke began, earning Naruto's wary attention. He didn't look up; he was tired and probably unprepared for the direction Sasuke planned on taking the conversation, "My parents foster kids."

Blue eyes snapped over toward Sasuke where they sat at the edge of the grass field, watching the seventh-graders run up and down the field chasing the soccer ball kicked amongst them.

"We only have one girl we're fostering right now. You know, Sakura."

"I didn't know she was a foster kid. I thought she was just a genetic phenomenon."

Sasuke laughed a little and Naruto smiled at him for it; but it faded quickly, mostly because it was hardly genuine.

"My parents are thinking about taking another kid in."

"What's that have to do with me, huh?" Naruto snapped, the tone in his voice defensive and guarded – he hated when Sasuke skated along this line of conversation and he did it a lot lately. CPS even checked up on them not long ago and it just pissed him off; apparently one of his teachers was troubled enough to file a concern. He didn't want to leave his mother. His mother didn't do anything wrong!

"I'm just saying, you could talk to me, dobe–"

"Don't call me that, damn it, don't call me that!"

Sasuke couldn't help but smile because his frustration was just a little different – a little more natural and a little less disconcerting – a little more like how it used to be. Maybe childish was the word he was looking for.

"I'm just here for you, ok? If you wanted me to listen."

Naruto didn't respond; the agitation slowly left his features and his eyes shifted away because he wasn't sure how to tell Sasuke, no thanks.

"My mom doesn't hit me, ok? She would never do that! I don't know why no one believes me!"

"I believe you," Sasuke reassured – he _did_ believe Naruto; he never once suspected Naruto's mother of anything, "But there are other bad people in the world too–"

But Naruto got up and walked away before Sasuke could finish, leaving him in a greater height of turmoil than he imagined he'd be stuck in at age nine and unsure how to cope with the circle every conversation took and how badly it always ended.

There _were_ bad people in the world – Naruto was surrounded by them; and it wasn't long before it became too obvious. A nine year old could only be ignored for so long and it wasn't long before he was landed in the hospital and inevitably in the foster care system.

Sasuke's parents left that night – to go pick him up – while Itachi stayed home with him and Sakura. He wasn't sure what to expect, but his father had called Itachi on the way home and told him to let Sasuke know everything was ok, even if it didn't seem that way. He wasn't sure if the talk Itachi gave him made him feel better or worse; all he knew as that his stomach just about jumped out of his throat when he saw his blonde companion walk through the front door.

Sakura was watching from the kitchen doorway, eyes as worried as her uneasy posture. She didn't know Naruto well personally, but Sasuke sure talked about him a lot – and she couldn't help feel a small part inclined to fear for him.

"Naruto–?" Sasuke began, voice hardly above a whisper.

"It's not a big deal, ok?" he snapped, small hands rising to cover his bandaged cheeks. His wrists were bruised – a lot of his visible skin was bruised; and Sasuke wasn't even sure what to say.

"It's getting pretty late, isn't it?" Mikoto interrupted, redirecting the conversation with an ease and agility to her tone, "Do you want to come see your room, Naruto?"

Tears poured down Naruto's bandaged cheeks before Sasuke could even see any well up in his eyes and his defeated posture spoke of his fatigue and restless unease.

"I want my mom," he cried, tone overwhelmed and as broken as his small, aching heart.

Sasuke wasn't sure how to react; he could only assume he'd feel as crushed as Naruto seemed if he was suddenly ripped away from _his_ family in the course of a single night.

"I know," Mikoto assured in a gentle tone, "It's a very difficult thing to deal with. It's ok to be sad."

Mikoto led him toward the stairs and only Sasuke's father followed; Itachi held Sasuke back with a hand on his shoulder because some things were better left to let adults handle.

And a small part of Sasuke wasn't even sure what he'd do if he followed anyway.

oOo

Naruto rested on his bed, back to the expanse of his new room and eyes drilling into the wall before his steadfast and somewhat distant gaze.

Sasuke's parents were really nice – he already knew that; so it was probably a large part of what kept him from really freaking out. Plus, Sasuke's mom said it was ok to be sad, so he didn't feel so uneasy about feeling the way he did because it was all he felt: sad and lonely and really forgotten.

But Sasuke and his family hadn't forgotten – and maybe that was another large part of why he was keeping it together.

He cried a lot lately, more than he had in his entire life probably; so maybe, more than anything, he was just getting better at telling himself to stop – getting better at holding it in and just acting frustrated and angry instead. Only now, he didn't feel so frustrated and angry. He just felt nauseas with the unease the huge change happening around him left at the pit of his stomach. Nothing would ever be the same. There was no way to turn back time to yesterday and prevent what happened.

And even if there was, it would have eventually happened another day instead; it was inevitable that he'd get taken from his mother as long as that other man was dictating the way the world worked inside their apartment walls.

His cheek stung against the pillow beneath him but he ignored it. His face got cut – six times; the nurse told him he wouldn't need stitches but he overheard that he'd have scars for probably the rest of his life.

Naruto wasn't particularly exposed to drugs until after his father's death but he understood that he knew what they were better than most kids his age because of where he lived even _if_ his knowledge was still somewhat filtered.

But even _he_ knew that the man who did it was somewhere else entirely. The words and concepts running out of his mouth were absurd and terrifyingly irrational, even to a child. Naruto knew the night would end badly the second it began.

He'd been questioned at the hospital, almost forcefully, and he didn't know how many times he had to say it before someone believed him – that his mother would never lay a hand on him; not in the way that would hurt him like her _friend_. But he didn't speak about her friend because he didn't exist; he was too afraid of what would happen to his mother if he did talk about it.

They told him that it maybe wasn't permanent; but he had to go somewhere safer while his mother sobered up – if she chose to do so.

Sobered up from what? His mother wasn't doing drugs; she was _sick_ – although, subconsciously, he knew he was lying to himself because he understood what the warning signs were and blatantly refused to acknowledge them.

Because acknowledging it made him feel a lot more substandard – acknowledging it made him feel a lot less important and a lot less significant.

"Get some sleep, ok sweetheart?"

Naruto didn't acknowledge either of them as they left and if he wasn't so overwhelmed, he probably would have felt a little more ashamed of his ungrateful attitude, but it was difficult to focus on any of the right feelings when all the wrong ones were consuming his young cognition.

But at least Sasuke's parents seemed capable of empathizing and ok with acting patient with him; he was lucky to have them – not a lot of kids got so lucky in the system and he still didn't know what the chances were that he'd get landed with Sasuke's family. Maybe they'd asked CPS to call when Naruto was ready for foster care. Maybe more people saw this coming than he'd anticipated. Maybe they were a big part of the ongoing investigation trying to get him away from his mother.

He didn't know. He didn't want to know. All he knew was that this was just the beginning of the rough path lie ahead of him and, although he knew he always would, part of him wished he just wouldn't wake up tomorrow because that would be easier.

But then again, he never picked the easy route. He would bounce back. That lady with CPS even said his stay here might not be permanent.

And all his hope was riding on that.

oOo

So this was a oneshot set a few years before a story I wrote called Set Free. It's somewhat long, way longer than this tiny little oneshot lol. But it's complete and you can find it at my profile if you were interested in how the rest of the story goes.


End file.
